Monster-slaying in Suburbia

Sprawling as the City is, its hegemony extends beyond the borders of the five baronies, into suburbs and to more distant, smaller urban areas. These areas face the same sort of challenges as the City, albeit on a smaller scale. Wandering monsters occasionally come in from the countryside, or up from ancient catacombs. Creatures which specifically hunt humans sometimes find isolated, small towns or suburbs easier pickings, at least for a time. Then there are human threats from rogue thaumaturges, strange drifters, robber gangs, and the like.

Many suburbs and small towns don't haven’t enough funds in their community chests to hire many former adventurers as law enforcement, if any. Often, they have to provide their own protection, and so form vigilance committees, sometimes with several “clubs” or branches under the auspices of an elected body. In some places, people from all walks of life practice with weapons to defend their community.

Just like in the old days, mob justice can be miscarried, so adventurers should take care. Get fresh with the wrong waitress in a two-bit town, or flash too much magic to scare the rubes, and they might find themselves facing a gang of armed townsfolk.

You Never Forget Your First...Dragon

“My first adventure and I get a dungeon AND a dragon?”
- Chad, 2011

Yesterday, a group I’m gaming with reconvened after a holiday season hiatus. My friend Chris is GM of a Pathfinder game set in Eberron. Last time, our intrepid band, trying to find a way through a ruined castle built inside a gigantic cave, freed a fighter (a new player, our friend Chad) who had been held captive by performance-enhanced goblins working for some mysterious big bad. Agnar (as he named himself) quickly showed us what kind of fighter he was going to be, by rushing heedlessly unto an alchemical laboratory (from which several goblins had been attacking us from cover), killing a goblin alchemist, destroying a shelf full of potions, and setting the room ablaze.

That was Chad’s first ever rpg session. Yesterday was his second...and he killed a red dragon.

True, she was a weakened thing, and hobbled by some magical chains of some sort (how weakened, and hobbled in what way, remains mysterious), but she was still a dragon, and with her special goblin entourage, could have easily done us all in. With a little bit of tactical planning, a bit of luck--and no small measure of daring--we triumphed.

It’s been enjoyable to sit back and play instead of game-mastering, but what’s been most fun is seeing a new guy get into gaming. I should say Chad just isn’t a guy who’s never gamed before--he’s a guy who’s been actively disdainful of gamers, thanks to the customers he had to deal with back when he worked at a comic book store. To see the unbridled fun of getting scaling walls, taking goblin scalps, and charging a fifteen foot tall dragon with a frost axe turn a hater into a player...now that’s entertainment!

Dungeontron

I caught Tron Legacy last week. It was entertaining, though not of the caliber of my other holiday visit to the theater to see True Grit. The internet has led me to believe that a lot of people have a great deal of affection for the original film, which I had interest in as a kid, but never any great passion.

What I most liked about the first film was the design aesthetic, something that the new film “updated”--I think, to its detriment. French comic artist, Jean “Moebius” Giraurd was responsible for many of those designs, and his seventies Metal Hurlant sensibilities come shining through. Sensibilities which had their impact on the imagination of old school gamers through the work of Moebius, Druillet, and others.

Of course, Tron’s “world inside a computer” concept was always silly, and even more hard to buy today when the public’s knowledge of how computer’s work is greater than it was in the early eighties where they were essentially “magic boxes” to most of the populace. Still, if gaming and comics have taught me anything, its that cool things don’t necessarily have to make sense.

It strikes me that old school style adventuring could take place in a world of a Moebius/Tron aesthetic. Programs could have different functions lending to fighter, magic-user, cleric, thief sort of divisions. Maybe clerics, for example, are genuinely the priests/mediators for the “User” cult, interfacing with the System’s mysterious and puissant architects and programmers?

They could travel through glowing, block dungeons on a monochrome grid searching out abherrant code or virus-monsters which endanger the system (one could borrow freely from ReBoot here too, which did some of the conceits of Tron better, but without the cool design elements).  In classic old school style, digital adventurers could be champions of the system's Order against viral-haunted, error-filled Chaos.

Happy New Year!

Young 1927 looks all business.  2011...we'll have to see.

Calendars & Girls

In the City, as in our own world, the wall calendar is a popular place for pin-up art. Major corporations, like car or tobacco companies, can afford to commission their own art and have their own unique calendars printed. Smaller businesses, eager for promotional items, turned to companies that produced generic items like playing cards, match books--and yes, calendars--featuring pin-up art, which could be imprinted with their own brand.

Brun & Bonnell were one such company, and they specialized in promotional items for expedition outfitters, gun shops, smiths, pawnbrokers, appraisers, and other businesses who catered to an adventuring clientele. One of their lines featured “women in peril” illustrations--in this case, pin-up girls in exotic locales menaced by monsters. Below is the preliminary illustration by the renowned artist Reno, which appeared in a 5887 calendar produced by Brun & Bonnell:

For those interested in the City’s calendar (beyond the pin-ups, of course):

The months of the year:
Shiver
Gelid
Bluster
Vernal
Floral
Midsummer
Swelter
Ripened
Harvest
Redfall
Erefrost
Aforeyule

And the days of the week:
Godsday
Loonsday
Pyresday
Wyrdsday
Stormday
Lovesday
Mournday

The Titan and the City

The City once had a singular protector. A bronze-gleaming, orichalcum titan who watched, unsleeping, from atop the highest spire, and sped through the streets in pursuit of evil-doers. He was the greatest gift of the City’s greatest artificer, a wizard of science and thaumaturgy, who built the son fate had denied him. A son with an intellect and moral code as superhuman as his impregnable body.

The father and his City watched his son and creation with pride. The titan woke the somnambulist army of an insurgent nightmare, helped raze the hellish Charnel Gardens, smashed the Reds' war-behemoth nest, and nearly lost his life incinerating the Damnation Photo in the primal fire of his own alchemical heart.

It was all over five years ago. It was then the old wizard died.

The titan has barely been seen since. City-dwellers glance upward, and see the lights on the 86th floor of the Imperial Building that never go dark, but whatever the titan does in his creator-father’s laboratory, he doesn’t share with the world. People ask, “can a construct grieve?”

But the titan still goes out into the City, using all his resources to make sure he’s unseen. He goes to where he can't help but be reminded of a time where his strength and intellect were not enough.  He watches a lovely woman in eternal sleep.  A woman whose life he saved, but whose spirit he could not. He recalls with absolute clarity every detail of the brief time he knew her. He watches her with eyes that don’t blink, but dim a little with something that might approximate longing, and regret.

Perhaps the question people should ask is: “Can a construct love?”

Warlord Wednesday: The Feast of Agravar

For the last time in 2010, let's re-enter the lost world with another installment of my issue by issue examination of DC Comic's Warlord, the earlier installments of which can be found here...

"The Feast of Agravar"

Warlord (vol. 1) #39 (November 1980)

Written and Pencilled by Mike Grell; Inked by Vince Colletta

Synopsis: Travis Morgan bids faithful Aton farewell. He says that he may have fallen short of the dream who gave his former army, but Aton has done well. As Morgan departs on the back of his winged horse, Firewing, Aton tells him that he hopes he finds what he’s looking for.

Once they're airborne, the black cat accompanying Morgan transforms back into Shakira. After meeting his daughter she had never heard of, Shakira wonders aloud what other secrets he’s hiding. Morgan retorts that he’ll spill his secret when she tells him hers.

Their banter is cut short as a flock of pink pteranodons attack!

Morgan and Firewing manage to out-maneuver the winged reptiles. As the companions continue on their way, a man watching them from the ground below talks to a mysterious wooden box bound in bronze. He calls it “Master” and agrees that--despite the pteranodon’s failure--they shall yet triumph over the Warlord.

Miles away, Morgan sights yet another ancient ruin and wants to explore. Shakira (predictably) is entirely incurious about the past. As Morgan prepares to enter the ruins,she notices talon scratches on Firewing's flanks. She scolds Morgan, telling him he should treat the horse better, that he should stop treating him like a possession. Morgan asserts that Firewing does belong to him. He enters the ruins, leaving Shakira to tend the animal.

Even in the darkness inside, Morgan can make out Atlantean machinery. He hears a hum, and knows some of it must still be active. He inadvertently trips a sensor, and the lights come on, and the facility comes to life.

Shakira joins him inside.  She asks what this place is. Morgan explains what he knows of the history of the Atlanteans in Skartaris: how they civilized war to the point of it being as easy as pushing a button--and how that was their undoing.

The two enter a living area and are suprised to come face to face with a robot, who greets them. The robot bows, and introduces himself as “Bogg.”

Bogg says his function is to serve. He was built by the Atlanteans, but over the years he has had the oppurtunity to serve the representatives of the many cultures who have passed through since the Atlanteans destroyed themselves.

Bogg offers the two drinks. Shakira laps at hers like a cat. As Morgan sips his, he asks if Bogg gets many other visitors. Bogg says "no," as the locals fear and shun this place. He was beginning to get concerned; the Feast of Agravar is at hand, and its been a long time since there have been celebrants.

Before Morgan can ask what the robot means, he notices Shakira is out cold. The wine is drugged! Morgan moves to attack Bogg barehanded, but succumbs to the drug’s effect himself.

Bogg drags our unconscious heroes from the room, and the robotic housekeeping unit tidies up behind them, removing all signs of what has transpired.

Morgan and Shakira wake up bound to a stone table in front of a pit. Bogg explains why he brought them here. The Atlanteans built their complex over the lair of Agravar. Long after their passing, Agravar was able to break free from his prison. The Feast of Agravar was a rite observed by the primitive tribe who took refugee in the complex. They saw Agravar as a god.

Morgan can’t believe that Bogg buys that primitive superstition. Bogg replies that he does not, but periodic feasts do seem to keep Agravar from wrecking more of the complex. In this way, Bogg fulfills his primary function--that of custodian.

Shakira doesn’t want to participate in any feast. She turns back into a cat, slips her bonds, and bounds away. Bogg goes after her.

At that moment, Agravar emerges from the pit:

Meanwhile, Bogg searches the complex for Shakira..and finds her, as she (now back in human form) blasts him with an Atlantean weapon she and Morgan saw earlier.

Back in the feast chamber, Morgan bursts his bonds to fight for his life. He hurls a piece of machinery at Agravar, but the device is destroyed by contact. Morgan realizes its body must be made of a “molecular acid”--which also explains how it burrows through solid rock. Knowing he can’t fight it, Morgan makes a hasty retreat.

Agravar is faster, and is almost upon him. Luckily, Shakira comes to the rescue with the blaster. She shoots Agravar through the head, killing it. The two leave the facility, as automated housekeeper goes about cleaning up the monster’s body.

Outside, they find Firewing’s saddle, but no Firewing. Shakira tells Morgan she set him free. Morgan couldn’t own him, he could only enslave him. She returned him to the skies. He has more important things to do, she says--and somewhere in the skies we see Firewing flying close to a winged mare...

Elsewhere, Aton is worried as he comes upon the grounded and damaged Lady J--the ship that carried Jennifer Morgan--on some Skartarian shore...

Things to Notice:

• There's an almost literal "Chekhov's gun" in this issue.
• The housekeeping robots in the complex are almost Jetson-like in their comic efficiency.

Where It Comes From:
This issue seems to combine elements of two previous issues.  We've got the ancient robot gone bad from "The City in the Sky" (issue 8)--the names of the two robots (Bogg and Tragg) are even similar--and the sacrifice to a snake creature in ancient ruins from "War Gods of Skartaris" (issue 3).

Bogg is even closer than Tragg to their likely inspiration: the robot Box from the film Logan's Run (1976).  Box is a former servant (his job was to freeze sea food and store it) whose interpretation of his programming has drifted a bit list like Bogg.  Box also has an expansive and gregarious personality like Bogg.

Not long after his appearance in the story, Bogg says his function is "to serve man."  This wordplay on the duplicitous robot's part is a reference to the 1962 Twilight Zone episode, "To Serve Man," based on a short-story by Damon Knight.  The story's famous twist is based on the same play on the meaning of "serve" as Bogg's comment.

Agravar is a Spanish verb meaning "to make worse."